Quentin let himself swim in the praise and soothing, let it wrap his brain in a soft blanket. He shivered again as he slid into her, his thrusts this time slow and long. "It hurts," he whispered. "It, it hurts, it hurts so good, it feels so good to e-edge for you..." He pulled out with another gasp, and then a tormented moan. He gave himself a little time, fifteen or twenty seconds, then slid inside again.

"Good boys don't come. Good boys edge and edge. Feels so good..."